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Weary Contemplations
(This story was posted by Chayton on July 26, 2005 on the Utopia Skye forums. It takes place after Recent Events - An Entry in Nita's Journal.) ---- Neither dried leaves or grass made a single sound as the feline's paws brushed over them. The faint breath of the wind made its way through his thick coat, seeming to try and comfort the pitiful figure it found. Chayton paid no heed to the breeze's song, his dark gray eyes downcast as he made his way to the river that separate Elwynn Forest and Westfall. Yes, he could see the signs now. A scuffle of sand here, a drop of blood there... Rheo had indeed gotten entangled in a battle with the assassin. The druid could even spot the indenture in the sand where the priest's body had been laid not so much earlier... Upon seeing this, Chay's grief washed over him fully. He felt his knees buckle as he collapsed onto the banks, his ears folded back. Kazan... the priest he had raised as his own son... the boy he had cared for because his mother could not... He had been so young, and had seen so little. And now he would never have the chance to get to know Mavra, his mother, or hear more stories of his father, Driathen. He could no longer sit and gaze with mixed feelings at Stormwind's Cathedral for hours on end, or flash his ever-endearing roguish grin that he had inherited. Slowly, Chay lowered his head to his trembling paws, gaze flickering shut in grief. For the thousandth time he was thankful that panthers could not shed tears, for the druid was not a fan of sitting and bawling on a river bank. If only he had been more insightful... he could have prevented this. He should have known, when Kazan stopped in to tell him he was going to visit his mother in Darnassus. Mav was a wanted woman, and any who knew her were in great danger. This was something Chayton knew from experience. It had only been a few days before that Chay had made his escape from the bowels of the Cathedral, thanks to Lady Aireth. He winced at the memory, unable to supress a shudder. He had been chained to the wall, imbued with poisons that prevented his wounds from being magically healed. And they had beaten him mercilessly... had thrashed him, frustrated that he would not reveal any information about Mavra. Thanks to Aireth, he had walked away with only wrists weak from being broken, and a scar upon his shoulder from the dagger that had gone through it. Had the priestess not assisted him, he would probably be in Kazan's place now... Mav had taken it into her own hands to fake her death, hoping to put her friends--and herself--out of any more danger. It had worked--a bit too well, unfortunately. For Kazan, in the clutches of Callan Thead at the time, had met his end for it. The assassin destroyed the young priest, finding no further use of him now that Mav was gone. At thought of the assassin, Chay found himself involuntarily baring his fangs, a low growl tearing its way from his throat. Unsheathed claws dug into the damp earth around him, even as he found himself wishing that the sand he was tearing up was replaced by Callan's face. Shocked at his own thoughts, his claws sheathed themselves once more, his head snapping up. His gray eyes snapped out over the water, wide with thought. He had never before wished injury upon a single person. In fact, he had always gone out of his way to prevent such things. For the first time in his life, the druid found himself yearning to destroy someone, to watch them writhe in pain at his hands. His thoughts were interrupted, however, by a robed Defias launching a bolt of frost at him from the rocks of Thunder Falls. Chay snarled in pain, launching to his paws. Without thought, he turned and launched himself upon the mage, his claws easily tearing the life from the man. The druid gave a sharp gasp, nearly swooning with disgust. He had killed Defias before... but never so heartlessly. He peered down at the mage in silence, blood dripping from the masked one's throat to soak into the earth beneath him. Slowly, Chay shook himself off, and padded into the river. A few strong strokes, and he stood in Westfall, peering in the direction of Moonbrook. He knew that only one thing would satisfy him now... One, single thing. The destruction of Callan Thead. Category:Warcraft Skye RP